Tomorrow's Ghost
by Slinky-and-the-BloodyWands
Summary: Merlin meets a ghost with an odd story and an even odder request. But as strange as she is, Merlin is inclined to trust Tara. One-shot.


Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and I'm making no money off of this fanwork.

Written during August Fic-A-Day, a Buffy crossover challenge at Twisting the Hellmouth.

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><p>The first time Merlin saw her, it was as he stumbled down the stone steps to the courtyard. He was preparing for a day hunt, his arms full of supplies as Arthur walked ahead, rattling off some story to one of the knights. She was there, just out of the corner of his eye, watching from afar, which was not so very strange, because, where Arthur went, so did his admirers. No, the strange part was that Merlin could have sworn the woman was watching <em>him<em>.

He turned his head, intent on catching her eye. She was fair, her gown plain and green, and Merlin could have passed her in the castle at any time and never taken notice. But something, some warmth that seemed to shine through her like the morning sun, left him wanting to know her name.

She smiled at him, shyly, as if she could read his thoughts, but Merlin found he couldn't return the greeting...There was just something so profoundly sad in her eyes.

Merlin opened his mouth to call out to her, which was, of course, when his body betrayed him. He tripped over his own foot, sending the cooking bundle flying. It landed with a loud clatter, followed by a louder cackle of laughter from the knights waiting ahead.

Arthur glanced over his shoulder, scoffing. "Perhaps if you spent less of your night at the pub, Merlin, and more of your evening completing your duties, you'd be awake enough to walk a straight line."

Merlin sneered at the back of Arthur's head, wishing desperately that he could snap back that he'd spent the night studying a spellbook, not in the pub. But instead of his usual retort, Merlin only frowned, hoping the blush on his cheeks wasn't bright enough for the woman to see.

But when he dared to look up again, to see if she was laughing at him too, he couldn't find her. It was as if she'd simply faded away.

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><p>He saw her again in the days to follow, always from the corner of his eye, always watching him intently. When he was pouring Arthur a drink, he'd see her pass by the doorway, and spill the wine. When he was making his way through the castle at night, he'd turn too quickly, certain he'd felt her eyes on him, and drop his candle.<p>

But the next time he truly saw her, the next time he was certain it was her and not some figment of his imagination, was when he woke to find her sitting on the stool beside his bed.

Merlin released an undignified squawk and rolled off of his mattress, hitting the floor with a thud. He took a shaky breath, his cheek pressed to the stone floor, and collected himself. A dream. He'd been having a dream, that was all.

He told himself as much, then rolled his eyes at his own stupidity, listening intently. When he was certain he hadn't woken Gaius, he pushed himself back up onto the edge of the bed.

And immediately slipped off again.

She was there, waiting patiently. "Are you okay?"

Merlin scrambled to his feet, eyes wide. "You're the girl, the girl who's been following me..."

Only, Merlin was beginning to doubt that she was a girl at all, since, well, she was glowing. Only faintly, but she stood out in the darkness. And now that he could see her well enough, he realized he could make out the wall behind her, the stool beneath her. He could see _through_ her.

She nodded once, chewing at her bottom lip. "Sorry if I scared you."

Merlin swallowed hard. "You're...you're a ghost, aren't you?"

Another nod. "I was too weak at first, to, to talk. I wasn't even sure you could see me." She gave him a small, apologetic smile. "My name's Tara."

"I'm Merlin." Merlin shook his head. "But I'm guessing you already know who I am, if you've been watching me. Or, haunting me, as it were. _Are _you haunting me?"

"Not on purpose." She stared past Merlin, her eyes distant, and as if a chill had run through her, she crossed her arms over her chest. "At first, I wasn't sure where I was...Or why I hadn't moved on after I...after."

"After you died," Merlin said, softly. He sat back down on the edge of his bed, and without realizing it, he lowered his voice to keep from waking his guardian. "If you didn't know where you were, then you must not be from Camelot."

Her grin was slightly crooked. "No, I'm not." She looked around the room, her smile becoming more genuine. "And I never dreamed of being here, in this place, this time. Of meeting you, _Merlin_."

"This time?" Merlin's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Wait, you've heard of me? Were you a druid?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're so young..." Her smile turned into a frown. "When I realized who you were, I didn't understand why my spirit would have traveled here. But I've figured it out now. I've figured out why the Powers sent me here, to meet the most powerful sorcerer to ever live. "

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><p>Willow stared out at the green hills, shivering against the chill in the English air, the wind whipping her red hair against her face, but the cold was no deterrent. The cold was good; the cold was numbing. If she stayed out here long enough, maybe she'd never have to feel again.<p>

She was at peace here, in this place. It wasn't so much Devon itself, but the distance between herself and Sunnydale. She felt grounded, but that's didn't push down the fear she felt. The coven knew it, as did Giles. They all feared her, the same way she feared herself. She feared what she might become when she returned home.

She heard footsteps behind her, rounding the stone cottage, but she wasn't startled by them. Instead, her magic reached out, finding who it was, and she couldn't help but smile somberly.

"I thought you'd left after your argument with Ms. Harkness," she said.

"Now why on earth would I leave before your training is complete?"

Merlin plopped down on the ground beside her, his long limbs folded, his shoulder giving hers a friendly knock. The warmth of his connection was instantaneous and chased away the cold. Emotions flooded her, leaving her chest heavy.

"You're not ready for me to leave yet," he said.

Willow frowned. "Then you don't think I'm ready to go back to Sunnydale either."

"That's not what I said."

Willow raised her brow, confused. When she'd first met him, she hadn't been able to meet his eye without shaking from the power radiating from him, but now she looked at him, felt his magic, his agelessness. It was so deceptive, his current form, one that, apparently, the Devon Coven had not been used to seeing him in over the past century. He appeared to be a young man about her age with dark hair and ears that stuck out too much. Normal looking, all in all, until one met his gaze. She didn't cower at his power anymore though; she'd learned to trust him over the months.

"You could have stopped me." She couldn't bite back the accusation. It had been there, hanging in the air between them, for too long. "You could have stopped me before I did what I did."

"Perhaps, but you would never have become the woman you are right now, if you hadn't first fallen." Merlin stared out at the rolling hills, deep in thought. "Perhaps I could have stopped it all from happening, but that's not what she asked me to do. And she was right, even when I didn't know she was right, even when I was still trying to fight destiny. She could have asked me to help in so many different ways, but instead she asked that I help you. After. Only after."

"She?" Willow asked.

"A shared friend," Merlin replied, with a mischievous grin. "Maybe one day I'll tell you that story, but not today. Today, Willow Rosenberg, the most powerful sorceress the world has ever known, returns home."

Willow let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "I'm going back to Sunnydale? But, I...I'm not - "

"Weren't you just complaining that no one trusts that you're ready to return? Well, not to sound all full of myself, but they'll listen to bloody Merlin if he says you're ready. And you_ are_ ready. _We're_ going to Sunnydale." Merlin gave her a hard look, losing his levity. "You're going to face great trials in the days to come, and our friend, she doesn't want you to face them alone. So I'm coming with you."

Willow felt a tear roll down her cheek, hot against her cold skin. Merlin wrapped one arm around her, holding her close.

"She..." Willow swallowed hard, biting down the temptation to say the name at the front of her mind, to have Merlin confirm it. It hurt too much. "She came to you?"

"She did." Merlin paused, then began again. "She came to me, when I was young, and she told me a story, and told me that now that I knew how that story ended, I couldn't change it. But that I could write the next one and make sure it ended on a happier note. And then, if I recall correctly, she threatened me with a stiff reprimand and a thorough talking-to if I failed to properly train you."

Willow wiped at her eyes, angrily pushing back her tears. "That sounds like my girl."

Merlin slipped his hand into Willow's, squeezing gently. "Don't fret, Willow. Have faith, and patience, and if she traveled that far just to seek me out, then I have no doubt she'll return to you, in one form or another. We need only wait."


End file.
